Multicoloured Robes of Beauty

Prologue

Appearances always deceive.

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The Multicolored Robes of Beauty

By Ling Li Na, 473 B.C.

The year was 473 B.C. in the state of Qi- one which marked ongoing conflict and turmoil in China. Nobility and commoners alike clung to the illusions they crafted, each set of words a well-conjectured lie, and power hiding truths buried deep beneath layers of silk robes and garments. The nobility flaunted their fortunes with gold ingots, but behind every plastered smile, there were daggers—daggers that could kill.

I, Ling Lina, found myself at the unfortunate centre of this illusion. I might not have been born into nobility, I was a woman of immense knowledge, and that allowed me entry into their gilded circle. My skill was not in the dance, the culinary arts or socializing, but in something far more coveted: weaving. I had learned to weave multicoloured robes so radiant and transformative that they revealed the very essence of those who donned them.

In China, people believed these robes—my robes—could reveal a person’s secrets. The vibrancy of their colours reflected health, their depth evidenced loyalty, and the sheen revealed their status, both financial and emotional. I never questioned them. Weaving was a viable business for a woman, and the nobility adored the idea that they could flaunt themselves, in all ways, with mounds of silk.

But beneath the silken grandeur, something macabre was unfolding. A series of murders had shattered the peaceful lives of the city’s elite. The victims were all men of great status, their robes now shrouding their deaths in mystery. But what linked them all was not that they had donned my creations—my finest work— but that they had worn them at the grand dinners held by one of the emperor’s concubines,Liu Xiao Wei.

Imperial Concubine Liu Xiao Wei was one of my valued patrons. Her intellect was sharp, and sharper still was her ambition. Her robes and gowns, gowns of mystique and beauty honed by myself, were legend, and her influence was second only to the emperor himself. She wore these with pride, claiming that they preserved her ageless beauty and even immortality.

But Xiao Wei wasn’t the only one who wore them - many of Qi’s male elite wore them too. The murdered elite Their body count was increasing, and with that came something strange - their faces had changed. The colours of the robes, too, shifted.

I examined the body of Liu Xiao Xiong, one of the victims, at Xiao Wei’s insistence. He had worn a deep vermilion robe—a sign of passion, of life itself. But when I approached the body, the vermilion had dulled to a sickly brown. The silk fabrics had frayed. My robes were known for their resilience, yet here they had unravelled. It wasn’t just wear and tear. The colour had changed in a way that defied explanation.

I only realized a pattern among these mystifying deaths after the death of esteemed nobleman Lee Tjun Wei. Someone had manipulated the coloured robes I weaved. Each victim’s face had become uglier and more macabre before his death. An uncanny feeling rose within me - it was as if the colours of the robes had somehow disguised them. Changed them.

I couldn’t ignore the call of curiosity. I attended the next gathering Xiao Wei held for the nobility, against my better judgement. As usual, Xiao Wei’s chambers filled up with the imperial palace’s most elite. The men strutted about in their robes, the women wore silk gowns and whispered behind fans. The colours they wore seemed to dance, a mysterious dance that candlelight seemed to make more eerie.

Hoping Xiao Wei could sort out this mystery, I sought her out. She met me in the center of her chambers with her usual feminine charm, her eyes lined with khol, her lips coloured a deep red. But something in her eyes haunted me. Cold, calculating, I felt it envelope me.

“You look troubled, Lina,” she said, offering me a Mantou (Chinese-style soft bun). “Surely you don’t believe these tales of murder. The men passed naturally.”

“I’ve seen their faces change,” I could barely croak.”Something is happening to their robes. It’s as though they’re making the faces of the men…..contort.”

She laughed daintily, a sound gentle, yet assiduous. “Ah, my dear. Robes are like people. They can be…altered.”

Her words were too chilling. I had thought my robes were pure, a reflection of righteousness. I had discovered a dangerous truth. Xiao Wei wasn’t just wearing my silken robes; she had them under her control. She had somehow maneuvered them, tightened them; they came to mask lies, secrets, deceit, and eventually death.

She had used the robes to alter perception. She had used these, and her feminine wiles, to lure these innocent noblemen into her network of power, the beautiful goblets on her banquet tables masking the poison she administered.

I tried to confront. She only laughed, ever so gently, in the dim light. “Appearances, dear Lena, always mask.” She released a soft giggle. “Isn’t it beautiful…..no one in the imperial court trusts each other any more.”

I fled that night, knowing I could not reside in Qi. Xiao Wei had used my greatest creations against me and others, turning them into instruments of death. But as I left with a sense of truth- she who holds the robes controlled the truth, and manifested power.

The robes were innocent. They were ever my greatest creation. But they masked contorting, rotting flesh beneath.